


Sunlight

by ForensicSpider98



Series: Light [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adam is dead, Canon Compliant Season 7, F/M, I'm Sorry, If You Squint - Freeform, If you want - Freeform, M/M, Post Season 7, Voltron Crew bonding, allurance, basically some feels, klance, pre-Season 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 13:29:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17265047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForensicSpider98/pseuds/ForensicSpider98
Summary: Maria McClain hasn’t seen her son in five years. In all that time, she hasn’t become accustomed to his absence. Lance was sunshine, and for the life of her, a world without the sun just isn’t something she can get used to.





	Sunlight

**Author's Note:**

> So all five of these little shorts take place between seasons 7 and 8. It's canon compliant up to that point. All of these stories carry the theme of Light.

Maria McClain hasn’t seen her son in five years. In all that time, she hasn’t become accustomed to his absence. Lance was sunshine, and for the life of her, a world without the sun just isn’t something she can get used to.

She can’t get used to the empty seat at her table. That contact in her phone. The lack of that Goodnight and Goodmorning message that she used to receive every day even when her son was in the room right next to hers. She can’t get used to not having that hug from behind every morning while she made breakfast. She can’t get used to not having her child there. She can’t get used to not having the sun shining throughout every corner of her world.

So as she scans the crowd, searching for the “Paladins” everyone is talking about, she can’t help but wonder if her sunshine has come home. Iverson promised one of them was her Lance. Her youngest baby. The last gift Aidan McClain ever gave her.

_ The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping _

_ I dreamed I held you in my arms _

_ But when I awoke, dear, I was mistaken _

_ So I hung my head and cried _

When her last child was born, Maria was alone. She was alone with the doctors as she struggled to give birth. The ghost of Aidan’s hand in hers was a long-distant memory as the doctors grew more and more concerned. After four other children, she hadn’t expected complications. And she hadn’t expected Aidan not to be there. But there she was. Alone and heartbroken.

Then the weak cries of a premature infant finally reached her ears, a too-small body placed in her arms. And, for all her pain and his, Lance Aidan Alejandro McClain was perfect. He had the same warm brown skin as the rest of them and a faint spattering of Aidan’s freckles and ever-so-slightly-too-large ears.

“Hush, my baby. It’ll be alright,” she whispered, running a slender brown thumb over his cheek. “You’re not alone, my sunshine. I’m here. I’m right here.”

Baby Lance had quieted down and smiled, his tiny chest rising and falling. A weak little finger wrapped around her thumb. Maria smiled. This baby was a promise. A promise that all had not been lost.

“Yes, Mijo. That’s right. You are going to be just fine, Lance. I promise I’ll keep you safe. You are so loved, baby. So very loved. And I promise you’ll never doubt it.” She began to sing softly, the same song Aidan had sung to her as they’d walked along the golden sunset beaches of Cuba already over a decade before.

Then Lance was gently pried from her arms so that they could all fight for his tiny, fragile little life. Maria didn’t stop her song. Over the years, it became their incantation.

_ You are my sunshine, my only sunshine _

_ You make me happy when skies are gray _

_ You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you _

_ Please don’t take my sunshine away _

“Mamá! Watch this!” Maria watched in terror as eight-year-old Lance did a backflip off the stone ledge and into the lagoon. After an agonizing few seconds, a little brown head popped up, flushed with victory.

“Mijo, be careful! Oh, be careful, baby!” She clutched at the generations-old rosary around her neck, hoping it might offer some protection to her son. 

Maria often had to remind herself that Lance wasn’t fragile. He wasn’t that delicate infant anymore. He was skinny, to be sure, and the pediatrician said to keep an eye on that, but he was strong. He did gymnastics. He played European fútbol (“Not football, Mamá! Fútbol!”) and was the best, the fastest on his team.

It was times like this, as her reckless son climbed a slippery, seaweed- and barnacle-encrusted rock wall, that Maria wondered if her promise to keep her son safe was one she could honor.

Now, Maria weaves through the crowd, those who recognize her stepping out of her way as best they can. Up ahead, a massive robotic structure the size of a mansion looms over them all, casting a shadow over those gathered. She hopes that, though she has failed, perhaps whatever arbiter that looks after her son has not.

_ I’ll always love you and make you happy _

_ As long as you can say the same _

_ And though you’ll leave me to love another _

_ I’ll still love you more every day _

When Lance was little, he used to sneak into bed with Maria. She’d go to bed alone and wake up with her son next to her. He’d be asleep most of the time, the early morning sun shining gold on his sleeping face. Ever since she’d brought him home, he’d smiled in his sleep. He’d probably smiled in his sleep before that too, or would have, were it not for the tube he’d needed to breathe.

Maria reached out and stroked her little boy’s cheek with her thumb. Warm blue eyes opened and smiled at her. The lips curled up a little more.

“ Buenos días , Mijo.”

“Buenos días, Mamá.”

“What are you doing here, baby?”

“I missed you,” he whispered. “I thought maybe you missed me too.”

Maria smiled at him. She brushed a messy lock of fine brown hair out of his eyes.

“I’ll always miss you, baby,” she promised.

And she did. From the moment she’d walked away, leaving her son behind in the place that had lost her husband among the stars, she missed him.

And she still does, even now as she runs among the crowd, trying to get closer to the terrifying Lions that had stolen her son.

_ You are my sunshine, my only sunshine _

_ You make me happy when skies are gray _

_ You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you _

_ Please don’t take my sunshine away _

Maria sipped her  café con leche across from the only other remaining chair at her table. The blue chair. Lance was speaking over the tablet propped up in front of her.

“I’m really good at flying, at least on my own. But whenever it’s an exam, and my S.O. is watching, I always flub. And my leadership skills are crap, but I’m learning. Commander Iverson is really hard on me, but when he has time to spare, he pulls me aside for extra help! He says I have a lot of potential, but need some extra grooming.” Lance pauses, then says in an enthralled half-whisper, “Mamá, he says I could be one of the best!”

Lance looked so pleased with himself. So proud of what he was doing. And Maria was proud too. She was proud of how far he had come in his short life. Proud he’d made it this far.

“But I do miss you, Mamá. I miss you a lot. Maybe this weekend, I can come visit you? I get 24 hours of leave each weekend. I could bring Hunk and Pidge, my teammates. You could meet them, so you know I’m taken care of.”

Maria smiled. Lance knew how much she worried about him.

“That sounds nice, Mijo. I’d love to see you and meet your friends. And Hunk and I can swap recipes, no?” 

Lance hung up a few minutes later to do homework, and Maria was left alone at an empty table with an empty seat in an empty house, wishing she wasn’t worried. But she was. And she hated herself for entrusting her son to the same people who’d lost her husband. If something happened to her baby, her baby who reminded her so much of her kind, fearless, indomitable Aidan, she’d never forgive.

She still can’t. When he’d first disappeared, in waking she couldn’t even imagine all the horrible things that might have happened to her son. In dreaming, she could, and wished she couldn’t. The nightmares have only gotten worse since the invasion, because she no longer needs to imagine all the things that might have happened to her son. She knows. And now she just wants to know Lance is okay.

_ In all my dreams dear, you seem to leave me _

_ When I awake, my poor heart pains _

_ So when you come back, and make me happy _

_ I’ll forgive you. I’ll take all of the blame. _

“Mamá! Mamá!” At the harsh cry, Maria turned to see her son, taller, broader shoulders, haunted still-blue eyes, strange armor, tearing across the desert toward her. “Mamá!” he screamed.

Maria had gotten so used to the stinging sensation in her eyes she barely noticed her own tears as her youngest son flung his arms around her and buried his face into the crook of her neck. The boy’s entire body was shaking violently.

“I’m so sorry, Mamá. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be gone for so long, I swear! I didn’t mean for this to happen.” He gasped, choking on another sob. Then he drew her impossibly closer.

Maria’s knees buckled as she collapsed into her son, sobbing. He fell to the ground with her, cradling her in his arms. She held him close, kissing his temple, running her fingers through his hair. Her baby. Her youngest baby wasn’t lost. He wasn’t gone. He was right there tangled in her arms. Finally. Finally, her baby was home.

“Hush, Mamá. It’ll be alright. You’re not alone, Mamá. I’m here. I’m right here.” The familiar words lingered in Maria’s ears as she was reminded yet again of Lance’s first day on Earth. Oddly, here and now, This really wasn’t  _ so _ different. A whole world made just for her and her baby.

Lance held her close and sang softly in her ear, that old incantation they knew so well.

_ “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine _

_ You make me happy when skies are gray _

_ You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you _

_ Please Don’t take my sunshine away.” _


End file.
